


Dreamer's Disease

by minute0fdecay



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Bloodlust, Fake AH Crew, Graphic Description, Grief/Mourning, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-08
Updated: 2014-12-09
Packaged: 2018-02-28 14:03:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2735285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/minute0fdecay/pseuds/minute0fdecay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I posted this in my song-shuffle drabbles thing, but I really like this story and maybe might develop it a little, or at least add a follow up chapter.</p><p>Relationships are difficult when they're based on murder.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

 

 

>  
> 
>   
> _I don’t want to be a waste_  
>  _I’m wasted. I’m wasting away._  
>  _While I’m out here making history, you’re making love_  
>  _To demons with no idea what horns have done_  
>  _But I don’t care. no, I don’t care._  
>  _I’ll die with a smile so my widow gets jealous_
> 
> _The ones that observed are the worst story tellers_  
>  _And lust is pulling my chair from under me_  
>   
>  _Well it seems like the amorous man has a prostitute like sense of commitment again_  
>  _And it feels like my eager hands are searching for that promiscuous skin_  
>   
>  _Don’t mock me by existing_  
>  _My ambition went from handsome as hell as straight to ugly as sin_  
>  _But I don’t care, why should I care?_  
>  _So fuck making love, I’d rather make history_  
>  _I’d prefer a monument over the kiss of thee_  
>  _The world is pulling the rug from under me_

Ryan knew that in his profession, relationships were unstable, difficult and dangerous. If rival gangs got wind of relationships, they would use that to their advantage. Take out one of them, render the other useless and eventually, the second target. Relationships could cause distractions. But Ryan had never felt as strongly for anyone as he felt for Geoff. He’d been hired for a one-time job but Geoff had been so astounded by his pure ability to tick people off one by one with cat-like stealth and his brute strength when it came to knocking down thick doors, he’d been offered a rather generous amount of cash to wipe out the gang he was vaguely associated with to join Geoff’s. He accepted the cash, did the job and re-assigned his loyalties.

Ryan got into this business because of his fondness of murder. Bloodlust. He got off on murder. Not to the point where he’d fuck fresh corpse or anything like that, but it got his blood pumping and his adrenaline soaring. Electricity would run through him and he felt more alive than he ever would apart from that moment in time. He knew it was wrong but that’s why he got on with Geoff. After their first operation together as a part of the same crew, Geoff noticed that he was fidgeting and restless. Geoff, understanding his situation had heard the “just the thrill of the kill, y’know?” excuse before, and didn’t believe it for a second. After that, it became ritual for Geoff and Ryan sneak off together to consummate the kill. Sex doesn’t come without feelings and eventually the feelings hit Ryan hard, where Geoff’s presence often elicited the same response as a kill, but not so much lusty as a longing to be with him, holding his hand, hugging him. They were able to do such things on very rare opportunities, where they had a night to themselves. A few months later, Ryan had accidentally let slip the “L” word, and Geoff had mumbled something in reply. It was dangerous, but they were in a relationship. Mainly based on fucking, but the feelings were there too.

One day, as Ryan was riding the high of his most recent kill, Geoff came up to him and dropped the bombshell.

“We’re done”

There was something said about Michael not being as needy or as clingy and Geoff couldn’t deal with Ryan’s feelings but he was still the best member of this gang so don’t get too upset, okay? Ryan took it well on the surface but beneath his skin his blood was boiling and his heart was breaking. He wanted to walk away from it all, but he couldn’t. He had a price on his head and if he left in a dramatic way he was sure that Geoff would take his life without a moment’s thought.

I’d rather be homeless than smelling his scent in our bed, Ryan thought to himself as he lay in  _his_  bed where obviously Michael and Geoff had agreed to their stupid fucking sex agenda or whatever the fuck it was. Ryan wanted to take Michael’s neck and crush it between his fingers, wring his stupid fucking throat until he was blue in the face, he wanted to shake him like a dumb doll and watch him choke and splutter and die in his hands and fling his corpse aside like a piece of trash because that’s what he was. That little fucker had annoyed him plenty of times, at least Gavin had a certain cuteness to his annoyance, Michael was just as stubborn as mule and had a real cocky air about him.  

He missed Geoff more than he cared to admit, every morning was a new heartbreak and seeing them leave together after a successful heist made him feel sick to his stomach. Gavin knew what had happened and tried to console him but Ryan would brush him off. Poor Gavin, he didn’t deserve it, but he didn’t really care. He remembered that Gavin and Michael were supposed to be a thing but that little slut Michael went and stole Geoff instead. Maybe Gavin dealt with the breakup. Maybe he was fine with it. Michael, that stupid fucking whore, the only thing he could do in the gang was drive. He was okay at driving.

It took a while before Ryan went into self-destruct. He’d drink to numb the pain, get so high he couldn’t move, pretty little cuts littering his arms and legs. He took to wearing a mask to hide his pain. He was dead inside and wanted to look dead outside too.

He wanted to die.

I don’t need him, he thought, as he single-handedly broke into a high-security bank, mowed down anyone who got in his path and blew open to doors to vault. He took as much cash as he could carry in his rucksack, pulling out more guns to make more room for his cash. He quickly ran out the way he’d come in, not caring to tread over the corpses and handing the cash to a good little bike runner he’d worked with. The instructions were to take the cash to his family and use some of it for himself, to get away from the city and start a new life for himself. The cash left and his eyes stung with tears beneath his mask. His family thought he’d died a long time ago. There was a note in it briefly explaining everything, and for them to not to get in touch with him, as there would be no one to get in touch with.

In that time, more security had come down and Ryan took them down easily, tore them apart like they were paper napkins. He heard the sirens outside. Got to the main part of the bank. Killed a few of them, shotgun to the chest and/or face. Oh, those sirens sounded so good. The sound of sweet relief.

I fucking miss you, Geoff.

He screamed at one of the cashiers to come to him. Scared for his life, one came over to him. Ryan put him roughly in a chokehold and screamed at him to shut up as he started screaming some nonsense about having a family.

He’s not as good as I am.

He walked outside with his hostage in his arms, gun pressed against the poor guy’s temple. The sun dazzled his eyes, even through the mask. He’d never been so pleased to see the police. Suicide by cop, they called it. The police probably assumed they’d hit the jackpot, this guy didn’t even have any armour. Fifty guns aimed at his head. He grinned.

Fuck you, Geoff.

He jerked the gun.

Fifty bullets.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Crew deal with Ryan's departure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the first part of this chapter is supposed to be taking place at the same time as the last half of the previous chapter. I hope that comes across!

 

> _They say home is where the heart is_   
>  _So where do you keep your bed?_   
>  _And if home is where the heart is_   
>  _Then what do I do with this empty chest?_

 

“You guys need to come see this. Now.”

Jack runs into Geoff’s room where he’s lazily playing with Michael’s hair, who’s on his phone. They look up with sleepy eyes.

“I’m serious. Something big is happening.”

They reluctantly get up and follow Jack to their living room. They all live together, their mentality being if people come after them, they’d rather all be wiped out together than picked off one by one. They moved from apartment to apartment every few months. Jack had the nicest apartment, which is where they were now.

Gavin and Ray had their eyes glued to the screen of the large television. It was showing a live breaking news story.

MASKED CRIMINAL BREAKS INTO TOP BANK – AT LEAST 20 DEAD, TOTAL DEATH TOLL UNCONFIRMED. HOSTAGES INSIDE.

“Ryan’s always wanted to hit that place. We didn’t ever listen to him though, it was too big of an ask. He’s taken it up himself.”

The sleepiness left Geoff immediately as he realised what was going on. At the moment the news was showing an aerial view of the bank, the cops gathering around the entrance to the bank, all taking cover behind cars. Geoff spotted on a nearby building the familiar lens glare from a sniper sight. It would be a miracle if Ryan got out of this alive.

“What the fuck is he doing…” Geoff said, eyes fixed on the pictures before him, “get out of there man, take the money and run…”

“He’ll be okay, right? He’s taken down this many cops single-handedly before. If he even confronts them.”

No one spoke while the bullshit news reporter commented over the top over the coverage of the bank robbery. Nothing really happened until they saw Ryan emerge from the building, hostage in his arms.

“No, no no no no no” Jack said loudly. “He’s never done this, what the fuck is he doing? Is he trying to get leverage?”

Geoff felt the tension in the room rise, his own heart thumping so hard against his ribs he thought his ribcage might shatter. Ryan was just standing there, in front of trained sights, staring them down.

“Don’t be a fucking idiot, Haywood,” Geoff said, desperately trying to conjure a situation where he got out alive, “drop the hostage and run, for fuck’s sake-“

No one made a sound as they saw the tiny twitch of Ryan’s hand and Ryan’s body crumple shortly afterwards.

No one wanted to say anything. They didn’t know if they believed what they had just seen. They continued to stare at the screen, which was still airing the helicopter footage, as the coroners rushed on scene and hauled the corpse into a body bag. The footage finished, the triumphant headlines shouting that the danger was dead and the news went on to cover other news.

Geoff got off the sofa calmly. He wasn’t a man who cried. He didn’t feel like crying now. He felt worse than crying. His body was physically aching from shock and grief. He walked to the breakfast bar that was positioned behind the sofa. He picked up a bottle left from the night before. He was so calm on the outside, but the fury within him was overwhelming. He threw the bottle at the TV, causing the screen to splinter and the bottle to shatter. Usually Jack would complain about a mess being made in his apartment, but he didn’t say anything.

Geoff needed to break the silence. The silence was making it worse.

“God fucking damnit. What the fuck is wrong with this country? God forbid they show tits but they’ll just air someone’s best friend being fucking blasted to death?”

“It’s pretty fucked up.” Ray said quietly.

“Why would he do that?” Gavin asked timidly, his voice shaky. He’d been crying quietly. “He just walked into it. He knew exactly what he was doing.”

“I dunno, Gav. I dunno.” Geoff replied, even though he was pretty sure he absolutely knew.

Geoff’s hands were gripping the side of the breakfast bar so hard that his knuckles were turning white. Life slowly came back to the group as they got up, moved around and tried to console each other. Michael poured himself a large whisky and gulped it down quickly. He wiped his eyes. He knew Ryan hated his guts, but goddamn, Michael looked up to the guy. Gavin and Ray, the two younger ones, who were very close to Ryan collapsed on each other, crying. Jack was crying silently as he got on with tidying up Geoff’s broken bottle and broken pieces of TV screen. Geoff ran to the bathroom. He was violently ill. Geoff knew exactly why Ryan had done it.

 

***

 

Geoff, thanks to his collection of disguises he had amassed over the years, was able to convince the coroner at the morgue that the police wanted to give this guy a real scumbag funeral. Dump him in the sea, a tag on him so that if there was ever a body search, they’d know just to leave the corpse to rot. The coroner agreed and it killed Geoff to speak so lowly of Ryan but they would not let him just be burned by the cops and have the ashes binned. They were gonna give him the funeral he wanted. He’d always joked about wanting a Viking funeral but Geoff was sure he was serious about it. They took the body, still in the bag from the morgue a few nights after the incident. They took two boats. One wooden, containing the body, which was tugged along by a speedboat that the five remaining AH Crew members all sat in. They got far out into the ocean before doing what they needed to do.

They’d burnt plenty of bodies before so they knew all the ratios of chemicals needed for a satisfactory burn.

“Geoff?” Gavin asked.

“Yeah?”

“Can we… can we see him? He’s not just a body bag.”

“You know how he went, Gav. I don’t think you wanna see him.”

“Have you seen him?”

“No,” Geoff admitted, although he knew it would be gruesome, he wanted to see his ex-lover’s face one more time, “but it won’t be pretty.”

“Please,” Gavin said, with need in his voice. “We can’t… it’s not right to not… he’s a bloody person. Not an object.”

“Fine.” Geoff said, not wanting to argue, not now. “But I’m not opening the bag.”

Ray, who had a stomach made of steel agreed to be the one to open the bag. He carefully stepped over into the body boat.

He started sobbing when he unzipped the front of the bag. Hunched over the corpse he let his tears fall, it was now so much more real.

“His eyes are still open.”

He choked on his words.

Geoff took the plunge and went to see Ryan one last time.

His face wasn’t really a face any more. There was a bullethole directly inbetween his eyes and sever other holes littering his face. His jaw had been partially shot off and his eyes, even in death, were still piercing and terrifying, except now they had sunk back into his skull. Everyone took a breath as they came to look. Gavin ran to the edge of the boat to be sick, Michael going with him to rub his back and cry himself. Jack, like always, was quiet, but Geoff knew just how much he was hurting.

Geoff, with shaking hands, closed Ryan’s eyes. He looked slightly more at peace, but it was still a horrifying sight. As he touched Ryan’s bloodied hair, he felt the cold touch of rubber against his hand. His goddamn mask was in the bag with him. Full of bullet holes, but still recognisable as Ryan’s mask. Geoff held it close to his chest. Geoff didn’t cry, but this sight changed that. He stepped back into the safe boat before opening the floodgates, sobbing and screaming into the night air, his heart completely and utterly broken.

After they had calmed down, they filled the body boat with the mixture they had concocted.  As they set the boat alight, they saluted as they watched the flames envelope Ryan’s body. Everyone was crying now.

“See you later, buddy.” Geoff croaked, voice hoarse from crying so much. They returned to land once Ryan’s body was gone.

 

 ***

 

It took them about half a year to get back into the swing of things. Of course everything had changed, and it never felt quite the same, but they were still a crew and they still functioned together.

The whole ordeal had made Gavin and Ray grow close together. As they youngest in the group, Ryan had always watched over them and Geoff could tell that the loss had left them lost. Sometimes he found them both asleep under one of Ryan’s huge jackets. Ray liked to wear Ryan’s jackets on cold days. They were big and comfy and Ray felt safe and untouchable when he wore them. Gavin fell asleep listening to Ryan’s voice that he had on record. Whenever they bugged a place out, Ryan would always test the mics. Gavin found the files on his laptop of him saying stupid stuff into the mics, often ending with him doing is nerdy cute giggle that was so out of character for such a scary dude.

_I would just like to let everyone know that Geoff sucks, and that he’s a girl, and he likes ribbons in his hair and he wants to kiss all the boys_

This bit always made Gavin giggle. He’d hear Geoff replying in the background and a second later, the _thwump_ of a pillow hitting the microphone. Gavin liked those memories. That’s why he fell asleep to them.

Jack took care of Ryan’s will, which was simply “if I take my own life, take my savings and divide it among you”. Jack was excellent at hacking into people’s financial accounts, and he felt somewhat guilty doing it to his dead best friend, but it was what Ryan wanted. Sometimes Jack would take a boat out to roughly the area where Ryan was buried and drop a bunch of flowers. He’d stay for a bit and talk, and then come back.

Michael did everything he could to become Ryan without verging over the line of being obsessive. He bulked up, he trained himself to be a better all-round criminal, and as an act of remembrance got Ryan’s initials tattooed on his trigger finger. Every pig he took out, he did for Ryan.

And Geoff? Geoff didn’t really change. He got quieter, and his heist plans weren’t as adventurous, but he stayed the same. On the outside at least. Inside, he was in turmoil. Guilt, sadness, anger. He kept the remains of Ryan’s mask under his pillow. It was the only way he could be close to Ryan without ending himself. He couldn’t do that, he had his boys to look after. But he also kept it there as a reminder. He could never give affection to anyone again. He could never care for anyone that deeply again. It was far too dangerous. For fear of breaking someone down, the way he broke Ryan down.

He would never love again.

**Author's Note:**

> Lyrics and title from Dreamer's Disease by letlive.


End file.
